I’m not easily freaked out, at least I don’t think I am. But some sights in resale and consignment shops make me shiver… or at least, look in another direction while swallowing hard.
First up, dress forms that imply someone’s been beheaded.

I’m okay with headless forms, even headless mannequins… but plop a hat on that neckblock or even worse, a big blood red blossom, and I can’t help think “gory movie” or “alien with tentacles instead of a face.” It’s probably just me.
Along the same lines, mannequins missing arms, hands, fingers.

War injuries? Amputation based on too-enthusiastic Black Friday early-bird shopping? Or just a “our merchandise doesn’t deserve a nice display”-itis?
Bins of hangers all tangled. I envision $15 an hour employees leisurely unraveling the mess, one hanger at at time.

I spent far too many years of my life in a half-crotch, untangling the boogers. Use a hanger stacker, I want to scream!
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